Indebted to the Mafia Blurb “Well, are you going to do it or not?” I keep my chin held high, but inside, I’m trembling. “Do what?’ the mafia king asks me, a smug look on his face. “What you paid for.” I bite my bottom lip, wondering if I can handle him. I am a virgin, after all. He snickers at me, and then, his mouth is on mine, and he’s taking every penny’s worth. *** Eleni I’d do anything to keep my family safe. When I find out a mobster is trying to kill everyone I love because of a debt, I sacrifice myself and end up on an auction block. When I find myself owned by Dante Cattaneo, I don’t know if I’ve been saved or sent straight to hell. Dante She’s gorgeous and scares as hell, even though she’s trying not to show it. My number one rule is to never let my weakness show, but from the moment I see her face, I know I have to have her. And if anyone finds out how I feel about her, I’m screwed. Dive into this steamy, dark, mafia romance now!
View More*Tatiana*As soon as the plane touches down at JFK airport, a wave of anxiety washes over me. This is my first time leaving my home country of Russia. I’ve spent my entire life looking over my shoulder, waiting for my asshole uncle, Oleg Romina, to show up and finish the job he started twenty years ago when he murdered my parents in cold blood. Now, he’s summoned the only parents I’ve ever known, Lev and Ilya Ivanov, to return to America. I insisted they bring me along, but as we deboard the plane, a sense of unease settles into my chest.My biological father, Petr Romina, used to be the boss of the Romina Empire, a smaller Russian mob that has territory in several countries, including New York where Oleg resides. When I was old enough to understand the kind of life our family used to have, Lev and Illya told me the truth about my parents’ deaths. My mother was my dad’s mistress, and when Oleg learned that they were planning on getting married, his greed made him murder both of them,
*Angelo*Sweat drips from my forehead into my eyes as I run through the streets, in too much of a hurry to even consider finding a car or waiting for someone to come and pick me up. Traffic would only slow me down, and I can’t afford to lose a single second.My heart beats so fast that my chest hurts. My legs grow weak as I try to push forward, shoving away the worst case scenarios in my head. I force my lungs to take in as much air as possible because I certainly need it.More than that, I need to be able to focus. I can’t risk making a single mistake. The streets are empty, proving everyone that says that New York City never sleeps wrong.I round a corner and see my final destination–but I’m too late.The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Several bodies litter the ground. I step over them, afraid to look down in case I recognize some of them. I can guarantee the person I’m looking for doesn’t lie among them.Some of the Saints men arrive right after me. I was nea
CalThe Basilica of St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral hums with excitement. Murmurs from the intimate crowd waiting in the pews whisper through the air, rising to the impressive ceilings as sunlight fans through the stained glass. I’m sweating balls in the tuxedo Tony insisted I wear. It fits like a glove–perfectly tailored–which Tony said was because his tailor is Italian, and they always know best. In fact, Tony’s wife, Chloe, and her mob wife minions put this wedding together for us down to the smallest detail. I don’t know half of the gathered crowd, but judging by the cheetah print and hair gel, most of these people are Saints in some way. The Irish Kings stand out, however, because they’re lining every exit–armed to the teeth. Tony stalks over to where I’m standing near the altar waiting for the ceremony to begin. He glances around, leaning in to say, “I’ve got guys outside.”“Thanks,” I grumble, tugging at my tie. He looks toward the crowd. I know he feels the same way I do abou
*Heidi*Cal drives us through the city, but I don’t recognize the path he’s taking until he stops in front of the exact same store in Greenwich Village that I had my eyes on for weeks when I was searching for a place to rebuild Sullivan’s Bookstore. At first, I frown, wondering what we’re doing here. It’s a tease, honestly. My heart beats fast when I look at the front window and realize it is no longer for sale. I don’t want to assume anything, so I turn to look at Cal, who has the biggest grin on his face. “What is this?” I ask, just to make sure I’m not crazy.After Cal was shot, I kind of set the idea of having a new bookstore aside. I focused on helping him recover, then having my things moved to his apartment, and after all of that was settled, I turned my attention to learning his businesses instead of going back to my own profession. I was frustrated and disappointed at everything failing in that department, so I simply ignored it.Until now.Seeing this store brings back all t
*Heidi*Two months later…Cal’s recovery wasn’t fast, but he did heal faster than the doctor thought he would. A couple of days after he was shot, he was allowed to be moved back to his apartment, which made it easier for me to take care of him. His place is close to everything, and I could come and go to grab groceries and also visit my grandparents every once in a while.Eventually, I had to tell them about Cal and that we were not only in love, but getting married, and they made me promise I’d take Cal to visit them. But Cal offered something else instead, and we all ended up going on a small trip so they could get to know each other.Needless to say, Grandma and Grandpa love him. They couldn’t stop smiling and were elated that I finally had someone to share my life with. I guess this is what they wanted the most for me.Adjusting to Cal’s apartment was also a struggle at first. I had few things to take with me since I didn’t buy a lot after the fire, but he basically forced me to
*Cal*Hearing those words from Heidi makes me wonder if I have truly died. Maybe all of this is a figment of my imagination. Maybe God is allowing me to live one last happy moment before I get to suffer for eternity in Hell.But there’s no way this perfect woman in front of me is an illusion. She looks so real. Her eyes–her beautiful eyes that I love so much–are staring at me so intently and expectantly that I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.And she loves me.She’s willing to turn her back on everything she believes in to be with me. This is much more than I deserve. So much more.I realize I don’t want a day to go by that I don’t get to hear those words come out of her mouth.I want to spend every day telling her how much I love her, too. I don’t deserve her, but it will become my life’s mission to make sure she doesn’t regret her choice, that I shower her with love and attention, and that she knows how much she means to me. I am far from perfect, but I’ll try my best to be f
*Cal*My ears pick up murmurs around me, but I can’t force myself to open my eyes. My entire body is sore, and the pain in my abdomen feels like someone is pressing and squeezing all of my organs together. It’s hard to breathe, but I force my lungs to receive as much air as I can inhale. My back hurts, so I try to adjust myself on what feels like a bed, or maybe a couch, but the smallest movement makes me grunt with pain.“Easy there, boss. You have a hole in your stomach,” someone warns, their voice distant but somewhat playful. I groan again, frustrated at not being able to move. My eyelids seem to weigh a ton, but I need to see what’s happening around me. I need to know where I am and why. Images of the confrontation in my bar come back to me in snippets. I don’t remember the details about what happened, especially how I got shot, but I do remember seeing Milo. I have no idea how much time has passed, and I also don’t know the outcome of the fight, so I need to make sure my men a
*Heidi*I step out of the shower and put on a set of comfortable sweats. The weather in New York City has been merciless lately, and even inside the apartment, I can still feel the cold wind blowing against the windows outside, seeping through cracks in the apartment I can’t see.I blow dry my hair in an attempt to warm myself, and that’s why I don’t hear my phone ringing the first two times. It’s only when I decide to order something to eat since I don’t feel like cooking anything that I notice I missed two calls.Before I grab the phone to check who it is that called me, I can’t stop myself from hoping it was Cal. But when I spot the unknown number, I roll my eyes. Of course he wouldn’t call me. I ended that. He made it pretty clear that he doesn’t intend to change his lifestyle, and since I’m not willing to give up on my principles either, I won’t hear from him again. I should make peace with that instead of keeping my hopes up.I’m about to put my phone down again, not really int
*Cal*Leaving the basement and making sure at least one of my men stays behind to watch the cartel assholes we have tied inside, I rush upstairs with Tony, Sam, and Hunter with the rest of my men on my tail.Even though the noises upstairs are muffed by closed doors and thick walls, I don’t like what I hear as I approach the bar. Frantic screams and intermittent gunfire can never be a good thing.“Fuck,” I hiss to myself. “They seem to be heavily armed,” I inform my men over my shoulder. “Are you guys loaded?”“I have a couple of guns with me. Armando is outside with my men,” Tony informs me. I don’t want to think about the possible scenarios we’re about to encounter. The rest of my men are also upstairs, but if they were caught off guard–even though I had them keeping a close eye out for any strange movement–things might be ugly.“I’ll grab a shotgun from the safe,” Hunter tells me. “Do you need me to get you anything, Boss?”“No, I have my pistol on me,” I reply through gritted tee
Eleni“Baba, I have to leave for class in half an hour,” I say as I clear paper plates and cups off one of the high-top tables in the back of The Greek Corner. “I need to change.”My dad huffs a sigh and shoves up from his chair behind the counter. “Yes, chryso mou, I know. But your mama was supposed to be done taking inventory by now to handle customers. Can’t you wait a little?”I bite back a frown and nod. He’s been looking more and more tired since we lost Christos a couple years back. I love the night classes I’ve been taking at the community college a few blocks over, but I’m not going to force my baba to wait tables just so I’m not late. I dump the trash into the garbage can in the back. The bell over the door jingles, and I turn with my customer service smile already plastered on, then freeze.Frank Lombardi, the broad, sneering mobster who’s held my family under his thumb since they came to America, saunters in with a few of his guys. My skin goes cold.“Georgie!” Frank smac...
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